


Bad at Love

by Chemical_Breather



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Hurt, M/M, Porn With Plot, Two Shot, post gotgvol2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-03-13 08:06:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13566363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chemical_Breather/pseuds/Chemical_Breather
Summary: Emotions are too much for Yondu to handle when it comes from, not only Quill, but Kraglin as well. And he finds out first hand that his arrow doesn't work proper when his heart is broken.





	1. Bad at Love

**Author's Note:**

> song for this chapter:  
> Bad at love: Halsey
> 
> We got some Buglin so hope you enjoy!

Dying.

No one ever really talks about what it feels like to die. Why?

Because either you didn’t make it back, or reminding yourself of the place you went when you were sure it was all over isn’t worth the pain. The memory.

The fear.

Yondu Udonta was an old man. He’d been through wars, seen things that others would crumble under the weight of knowing about. He didn’t fear anything in the galaxy.

But he wasn’t in the galaxy no more.

He was in a blackness that swallowed you whole, a gorge without an exit, a bottomless pit void of sound, smell, feeling.

Just floating there with nothing to hold onto.

He felt like he was spinning, like he was falling, but which direction he hadn’t an idea. No wind blew over his cheeks, no hair on his chin felt even a whisp to tell him what was happening to him.

The only mercy?

There was no pain to be found.

No searing burn as bubbles filled with nitrogen overcame your bloodstream. No stretch of skin from ebullism, flesh ripping and scales detaching to leak blood only to have it sizzle and freeze upon contact to below freezing space air.

Just..nothing. A neutrality he would have paid good money for the day he found out what happened to them kids. The day he was ignored by those he thought was family. The day of the exile.

Nothing was..something he had dreamt of every night when he wasn’t drinking himself into a stupor. Something he begged for late in the night cycle, Kraglin fast asleep in his bed of furs that felt far too empty without a small Terran there to kick and shoved his way between them.

Yet, now that he had that nothing, things felt..off…

Disturbingly..malevolent…

Like something was watching from past his line of vision, a monster stalking him in the dark, silently deciding on his fate.

He could hear screams, slowly rising from around him. His feet molded to the floor, black tar creeping up his calves, burning through leather and flesh.

Burning. Screaming. Crying. Shouting.

One. Two. One Two.

Counting like the ticking of an old timepiece keeper.

One. Two. One. Two.

He jerked around, dark tendrils leaking sizzling fluid lifted towards him.

One. Two. One-

“Yondu!!”

The Centaurian woke with a start, inhaling too sharp and doubling over as his chest burned and his head ached, lungs not near strong enough to fully function. Alveoli stuck thick and refused to open to let oxygen fill them, and what could be forced into filling created a popping sound that had the blue skinned male wheezing for the next inhale. Everything hurt and his body felt heavy, but he was away from that dark place.

He was alive.

And the first thing he saw when he was alive? Was a whole bunch of whining babies teary eyed looking at him. Green looked half pissed half relieved, Rat and Twig were staring as if they didn’t believe their damned eyes, the big guy was nodding as if he knew he would make it anyway, that Bug girl hiding behind his bulk like a scared little girl hiding behind her daddy. And then there was Pete. First he looked pissed, socking the old man in his jaw right away. His breathing mask skewed over to the side, pain bursting through to filter into his screaming brain that was trying its damnedest to register all the other pain he was feeling, moving too fast causing the world to spin around him. But despite the outraged and shocked shouts from his crew, Yondu knew that punch didn’t have but piss and vinegar behind it, and the tight hug around his middle only confirmed it.

He let the boy cling for a generous two seconds before he fake coughed and tried to shove the ex ravager off him. But that shove didn’t work as well as it usually would, arms weak, fake cough turning into a real one. One that was deep and hollow, lungs heavy and cold. In fact, all of him felt far too cold, and even when he regained his breath, Peter scrambling to place his breathing mask back on his ugly mug, he was shivering. As if reading his thoughts, Rat crawled up to tug an extra blanket over him, hesitating before curling up at his feet like some pet. Real cute. He kept himself from smirking and instead glanced about the room. It was an old part of the 3rd quadrant, some run down shitty room with no excuse to be used for medical purposes, but her he was. Alive and well, equipment around him looking far too new to be from either his or Quill’s ship, so he turned his eye back over to the rat.

“I know..ya’ll did’n’ go wast’n’ good cred’t on my ol’ bag a bones.” He meant to scold. To sound pissed, maybe disappointed. He ended up sounding a bit in awe, disbelief mixing with the deep settling sense of what he had actually managed to survive. He poked his bottom jaw out with a grunt, wiping some crust out of his eyes, damn things were far too sensitive for the heating lamp they had over him, idjits… Makin’ them water and..and shit.. But none of that answered his question, and the mixed looks of shame that seemed to cross over the Guardians in a wave had suspicion rise up his throat, choking his next breath and damn it, he had only been awake for a few minutes but he was already tired of coughing his lungs apart.

It was Gamora who answered this time, fiddling with her fingers, chin held high. The daughter of Thanos seemed above apologizing or feeling remorse, but the discomfort her features displayed had Yondu feeling all the more uneasy.

“We did not but this equipment, they were gifts to borrow until you are back on your feet. Nothing more.”

“Yeah, ’n wht’d ya trade fer that? A free job? Yer fuckin’ souls, huh?” Yondu was tired of this, tired of them tip toeing around him, like he were weak. “Jus flark’n tell me, what’d ya give?”

“We did not trade a thing, it was a gift. They wanted to help you, assure you lived. They care about you.”

“There ain’t a damn soul that’s cared ‘bout me. Who was it, that Collect’r? Some Kree shit?”

“It was neither.”

“Then who, damnit!?” Yondu barked, infuriated at how calm the woman seemed, lungs giving a burn of protest, causing him to double over and remove his mask to cough it out a bit. His chest burned like the engine of an Mship, hurt like he had one parked there as well, and when he wiped his mouth off blood smeared with his spit. Green allowed him time to calm himself, watching closely as Quill helped him put his mask back in place, not even having the energy to argue about it. When the make shift med bay was silent, only then did she reply to his demands.

“It was brought in by the ‘Starhawke’. By Stakar Ogord himself.”

Yondu froze, disbelief sucking the rest of the energy out of him, collapsing onto his back as he stared blankly at the wall across from him.

“Dn’t play with an..old man’s feel’n’s…ain’t right…” Yet he was already getting hopes up, unable to lift his gaze any higher then the Guardian’s knees. He felt small, weak. Pathetic. Like the day he was exiled from ever sitting at the table again. The day he picked up Quill, all big wet eyes full of fear. The day he had his collar broken by Stakar. And here he was again, trying to be the biggest man. Normal he would shout, curse, get mad, call the old man up and tell him to fuck off with an added middle finger. But..he couldn’t do that no more..keep running from everything. Talkin’ needed to be done, and maybe..maybe, this time he would be heard. 

Nerves grew in his gut like crystals in a barren cave, stalactites meeting with stalagmites, pressing towards one another like teeth in the maw of a Shil’torii, those fuzzy felines with the long jaws and tails with spiky ends. It didn’t make his breathing any better, but it was a distraction from the worried looks he was getting from all sides of him, so he’d take what he could get. He was thinking real deep to the point he may have closed his eyes, just for a second, and when he looked up again only Quill was at his side. His ginger curls hung about his lax face like that of a halo, face squished into his arm where he lent forward, using his old man’s thigh for a pillow. A bit of drool was leaking from the corner of his lower lip and the Centaurian had the sudden urge to smack the boy awake. But he had probably been through near as much hell as the ex Ravager captain himself, if the dark circles under the kid’s eyes was any confirmation, flickers of the boy’s screaming face going through his mind’s eye as everything in him froze, dying. Sorrow, regret, fear. He had been scared those last few seconds.. And so had Quill.. Shit, he really needed to get better about bein’ a daddy..

That was it.

He was gonna make a real effort. Talk openly to him about what he thought, about the past. About..feelings. 

Flark, this was gonna be tiring. But..by Thanos’ left tit, he was gonna try.

He was gonna be a good daddy.

 

 

The first week went by fast, made up of mostly eating food through a tube of nutrients in his arm, long bouts of sleep, and getting harassed at all waking hours by Quill and his gang of misfits. Were nice, really, that they cared so stars damned much. But he wasn’t a damned vegetable, he was alive and breathing sort of shit but enough, they could give him enough alone time to at least touch himself once in a while. His scales were finally growing back and unsticking from one another, and Yondu was never one to go a day or two without getting his fair share of nookie in.

He had ignored it well for the next two weeks after that, stayed on his sick bed even after they unhooked him from machines and had him on just a portable oxygen mask, but they still tiptoed around him. Didn’t want him to walk around, to leave the room, but Yondu Udonta was not someone to be grounded or contained in one space. He needed adventure, a change of scenery, something other then white walls and metal floor under his bare feet. He needed a body under him or, more preferably, over him and in a place that was not this shitty room on what was left of the Eclector. Too many hard memories, too much to mull over. He just needed it all to stop for a night.

He thought about bringing it up with the kid when he next bothered him, not thirty minutes after Quill had left to get something to eat, and he was back already. Yondu already felt a strain with having to be open, talk feelings at every conversation they had, and it was exhausting. He had explained the whole Ego thing to begin with, then came more personal questions. His scars, his life as a slave, he told him as much as he could stand to and the boy was back for more, never seemed to tire of talking ‘feelings’ and shit, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. He needed a vacation from anything that was mushy and soft, needed something sharp and dangerous and maybe a bit sexual. So he was gonna do what daddies seemed to do best, and make his boy uncomfortable with sex talk.

“So. I need ya ta do somethin’ fer yer old man.” Yondu stated gruff, pulling the oxygen mask down with frustration. He didn’t even need the damn thing unless he inhaled too sharp too fast, hated how weak it made him feel, that constant reminder of how fragile he had been, how close to death. He was brought back to the present by Quill’s enthusiastic questions of what it was he could do for him, ‘anything, just say the word!’

“I gotta wet my whistle, sick of bein’ in this damned room. I need a space of my own an a warm body at night, if ya catch my drift.” Yondu smirked, flashing his eye teeth with a cackle with just how green Quill got in the span of just a few words, guffawing as he got red the next second. This was more fun then he had imagined, and truth be told, he had missed terrorizing his Terran boy.

“I-I don’t wanna..I mean.. I assumed something like this would happen, s-so we already have your room set up, uh.. A bit earlier then I was hoping, you still have healing to do, you know?”

Yondu flapped a hand at him with an eye roll, already getting up onto his feet, ignoring the pops in his joints and the wheeze he makes as his weight settles. He needed to start working out again, couldn’t afford to get all flabby at his age or he’ll never be able to tone back up. Have a moonshine gut for the rest of his years, and he was definitely not old enough for that shit.

“Na, don’t tell me that shit, I’m fit as can be. Show me ta my room, gotta get ready fer a special date with someone that can slam me agains a wa-“

“LALALALALALA!” Quill shouted, putting his earbuds in and cranking the music up with a dirty look on his face, Yondu simply cackling as he crossed his arms and followed his boy as he led the way through the bowels of the third quadrant, wheeling his little Oxytank behind him. The place was barren without his mutinous crew to fill the halls with hubbub and cursing, feeling a bit haunting, hallow. Lonely. That very word had him turn his lip up in a sneer of disgust. Lonely, like that was a sensation Yondu felt. He was surrounded by someone at all times in his life, triple so since he started these ‘opening up’ sessions with Quill, like flark would he say he was something as pathetic as LONELY.

Brushing his shoulder off along with any of those stupid feelings he most definitely never had, the ex Ravager captain shoved his way past Quill when the room door slid open, striding in only to pause in the threshold at the tall Xandarian frozen on the bed, PAAD in thin fingers, blue greys large as they flickered to the door with a hint of panic. Yondu wouldn’t lie and say he hadn’t forgotten about his ex Mate, and ex in every other way since the shit with him starting that mutiny, but now that he had him right in front of him his anger flared up and his eyes narrowed like a feline looking at prey.

“You. Tha flark you doin’ in mah room, boi?” He growled. A hand gripped on his shoulder softly and he turned to see the brilliant straight teeth Quill owned.

“Oh, well, there isn’t much room on this pile of junk for everyone to have their own room, so we’ve been bunking down in pairs. Rocket and Groot, which I think is utter BULLSHIT-!” He turns his head to shout down the hall before turning his attention back to the two, face now scrunched with exasperation as he removed his earbuds from his ears and continued. “Nebula and Gamora are sharing for now, and me and Drax are in one as well. Figured since you two always got along so well-“

“Used to.” Yondu hissed, flashing his gold and silver capped teeth, watching Kraglin’s face pale as he ducked between shoulders, the pathetic worm. “Before this streak of shit mutinied me.”

Quill’s eyes widened and they flickered from kind of daddy to kind of brother thing, panic now taking over his own face and he clicked his tongue off his cheek and slowly backed up, sensing the energy in the room getting dark. And that usually meant someone was killed or someone got laid, and the Terran was NOT up for being present for either.

“I, uh…I’ll call when dinner is ready..?” He asks weakly before stepping back and slamming his hand on the biolock as fast as he could, only catching the first stride Yondu makes towards the man on the bed before him, fists shaped like claws and murder in his red eyes.

“You-“ He began with a hiss, Kraglin automatically shifting from meek and weak to on the defensive the moment all other eyes were off him but Yondu’s.

“Cap’n, I already done apologized, I thought-“

“Why tha FLARK ya tryin’ this shit now!? I may have let ya help back there with Ego, but like hell am I takin’ ya back. Nearly kill yer own captain an you ain’t even got the decency ta VISIT me!?”

“Ya never asked fer me, how was I supposed ta know-“

“Cus, far as I know, ya still pissed bout bein’ jealous over Quill! Since he pulled tha shit on Xandar, ya been nothin’ but watery eyes and knobby knees! Ya been WEAK!”

“Is it weak ta love someone!?”

“HELL YEAH IT IS.” Yondu was nose to nose with the thin male now, lower jaw jut out as he fumed. He weren’t too sure when Kraglin had scrambled up onto his feet, but like this, this up close to him. Smelling his sour breath and feeling the controlled power and rage in him? The last thing he seemed to be was weak. It was the closest to danger he’d gotten to since he was spaced and it had the blood in his veins throbbing. He didn’t get a chance to kiss the idiot because the Xandarian slammed his own fucked up dental work against his and, with a grip that will definitely bruise his scales, twisted them around and shoved him onto his back on the bed.

His fang must have caught on his lip cus when his red eyes flickered up, Kraglin’s blue tongue slid out to lap up the blood leaking out, something intense and hot in his gaze and it sent a shudder down his spine. He was gonna get it good, and he had been aching for it for the past few weeks.

Something not many people but Yondu knew was Kraglin may appear Xandarian, but he was anything but. He was deadly, owned claws and sharp canines and Yondu shuddered, cock throbbing as he watched the male strip his shirt and his skin dissolved away to give way to fur. It rippled like waves along his frame, traveling down from head to navel and continuing where it was hidden underneath a leather jumpsuit. His thin arms burst open with fur, nails click clacking against one another as he crawled onto the bed and hovered over Yondu’s body, growl rumbling out as he watched him through a fractured sense, splitting him up into multiple angles. An A Chiltarian in disguise, an endangered creature, one of only few in its race. And he was all Yondu’s. 

His fur was deep blue like space itself and thick, near sharp if you ran your fingers over it the wrong way, covering every inch of his skin save for the furry sack above his testicles that gave way to a deep red cock that hid under the membrane like skin in a fucked up form of a sheath when it was soft. Its tip was pointed, near canine in how it looked, almost gelatinous with how see through it appeared, and as Yondu’s gaze traveled to its base, right above that collection of fur, sat a bulb that, from the Centaurian’s own experience, got a hell of a lot bigger. His face was framed with furry mutton chops and his teeth were sharp as daggers, Yondu already bearing his neck for the soft prick as they trailed over his skin. 

From all of their other romps in the sac, the Centaurian expected claws to rake down his sides, teeth to dig into the meat of his shoulder, now scarred up from such affections. Maybe even to have that cock pressed up against him, ground nice and dirty between his thighs. Rip his thin medical gown apart and take him harsh and rough.

What he got was a shaky kiss to his throat, gentle hands trailing over his thighs, warm body pressing him down and just..laying there, suffocating him with how soft it was. 

“Flark, I missed ya….” Kraglin whispered, voice strained, and the sentiment there had Yondu’s boner flag faster then watching an A’askavariian eat its mate after coitus. The fact he was mentally using the word ‘Coitus’ should be give away enough with how not into this he was.

Shoving the male away, he glared as Kraglin watched him back, those bug eyes of his unsettling him in a way that didn’t make him wanna hop on for a ride. No, he felt like he was being watched too close, emotions read each time they flashed across his features, and it had anger bubble up with him. He may be opening up to Quill, but he weren’t gonna be vulnerable like that with every single person he hung out with. He owed it to the boy to tell him the truth, but he didn’t owe Kraglin shit.

“No emotions talk, I thought we already established this shit years ago. What, I come too close ta death an now ya wanna treat me like a delicate flower?” He sneered, arms crossing, blocking his body language off. Kraglin stared with a slack jaw, brows furrowed; It always amazed the ex captain just how animated the man could look when in this form without those blue greys reflecting his every thought in them.

“Ya been talkin’ that shit with Quill since ya woke. I jus figured we should be careful, still recoverin’ an shit, Sir.”

“Ain’t no Sir, ain’t a captain no more, an I ain’t made ah glass, neither. So stop with this tender lovin’ shit or I’ll get my nookie elsewhere.” 

The room was silent in a way that did not bode well to the Centaurian, leveling a ruby colored glare at Kraglin who now looked like he had just swallowed an Orloni whole. 

“What NOW?” He hissed, this shit grating on his last nerve. He had been looking forward to a good rough fucking, not more feelings talk, and now that he was being presented with more of it, he was about ready to break something, preferably this idjit’s face.

“I was..I been meanin’ ta talk to ya about that, before all tha shit went down.. ‘Bout..bein’ a closed relationship…”

Yondu tried. He really tried hard to keep his mouth closed, but he lasted all of three seconds before he was overcome by a laughing fit, slapping his leg as tears collected in his eyes. He knew he had made the wrong reaction, because Kraglin frowned and his fur melded flat, fading in color to the pale skin of an every day Xandarian once more. No nookie for him after all this shit either, just great. That ruined his humor real quick, face settling to a decidedly blank one as he sat up and they stared each other down for a few minutes.

“That yer answer, then? I’m not worth bein’ faithful to?” Kraglin ground out, shoulders hiked and his own arms crossed over his concave chest to settle above his pot belly, something he was very self conscious over even when they were alone, copying Yondu’s pose defensively.

“Yondu Udonta ain’t ever been with just one person. Ain’t gonna start now.” He quipped back, tone final. Kraglin sighed, uncrossing his arms to lift his hands palm up, placating, eyes large and pleading.

“Look, just..while ya recover..please…just give it a try…?”

The ex captain looked down his nose at the male before him, lips pursed and he could whistle if he wanted but it wouldn’t do shit, Rat still putting finishing touches to his arrow to get her back online. Still fun to see Kraglin lock up at the idea of it. Even though the idjit knew he couldn’t pierce anything he cared about, no matter how pissed he was. Arrow followed his heart, after all.

The stare down lasted for a good few minutes more, and just when Kraglin seemed on the verge of either screaming or crying, Yondu heaved a large sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. 

“Flarkin’ FINE. ’Til I’m recovered, I’ll keep tha nookie with others down, ya happy? Gonna twist meh arm an take my meals away, too?” He grumbled, feeling nauseous when Kraglin wrapped him up in his spindly arms and hugged him tight. He knew that exact moment he needed to get away. Everything felt overwhelming, too much.

He lasted a good two more weeks before he broke his promise.

 

 

 

He had finally, after being badgered and questioned repeatedly every day for over a week straight, told the boy about what happened to his fin. It had been a long conversation, half of it he had to be choked out, and at the end of it. Like some wuss. He had cried, only a little bit. Just a drop.

And he was exhausted.

Every bad thing that had happened to him, every dark moment and hard time in his life, and the boy demanded to know it all. They were getting closer then he had ever thought would be possible, but at what price?

His dignity, apparently…

After he was done with his long day of opening up, getting his check ups on his lungs and updates on his fin to gain better accuracy on his arrow? He went to his cabin where he was affronted with affection and confessions of love and pressed for cuddling until they slept by his ex First Mate. Every night.

He was being suffocated. And he needed space.

So the next morning he shoved Kraglin off his back, sneering at the angered sounds the male made as he hurriedly strapped himself into his old under leathers, coat still hanging up in his closet, collecting dust. He had some reservations with wearing it, the flame patch feeling even heavier then it used to. He still had a retrial in a few more weeks, and as far as he was concerned, he didn’t feel worthy of being called a captain yet..even if they deemed him worthy of being brought back into the old crew. Sacrificing the insignificant life he had didn’t make up for all those precious lives he had ended..all from his own selfishness. Not a day goes by he doesn’t feel he shouldn’t have made it. Should have floated off into space, gotten burned and returned to the galaxy with not a horn or a light over his grave.

But he never got what he wanted in the end, did he? So here he was, alive and storming down the halls of what was left of his shitty hunk of junk ship, bursting into the kitchen of the Milano with arms crossing over chest, chin up and lower jaw sticking out.

“We’re stoppin’ on Contraxia. That an order.” He snarled, Pete mid-bite of some cereal staring at him with surprise. 

He dropped his spoon into his bowl with a small splash and a clatter, scrambling to stand as the ex captain walked past him to the pantry, unaffected by the looks he was being sent by Quill and the rest of his Guardian friends.

“Y-you’re not fully recovered yet! You-“

“Yes, you shouldn’t be going anywhere so unsanitary as that planet until you are well.” Gamora joined in, hands on hips, face blank save for a small furrow of her brows.

Yondu simply rolled his ruby reds and snatched a honey treat from the shelf, knew it was Rat’s and also knew the guy would get pissed at everyone else on the ship before he realized who really did it. Had a soft spot for him, or something like that. The Centaurian had contemplated getting some nookie from the kid, wondered where all those paws could reach, but with this shitty monogamous deal he had going on with Kraglin, he couldn’t even look in someone else’s direction with interest without the man becoming pissy.

So sexbots was the next best thing, it seemed.

The only option he had left.

And if there was one thing Yondu Udonta hated, it was being backed into a corner..

It took an hour of arguing, then another just for him to assure his boy that he wasn’t gonna do anything reckless or dangerous. That he’d keep his oxygen mask with him, and for the love of Thanos, yes, he was going to stay on the planet in his room until he messaged the others to rendezvous out front and walk him back. Flark, they were treating him like a toddler, he could take care of himself. Certainly could handle a little bought of sex without busting a lung, wasn’t like he was getting any on this ship either way.

So, everyone agreed and it was all settled, and Yondu was near vibrating as he saw the shimmery blue of the planet, mist and clouds rolling above and under one another. A sea created by lights and snow falling. It was always dark there, yet when the lights from other stars hit off it just right, it practically glittered like the prettiest of shinies. It was what made Contraxia one of his favorite places to visit.. Landing down felt like returning home and he barely gave a wave to the others as he set off into the snow, able to feel the eyes of his ex First Mate lurking from the window and he ignored it all. Not the cold as it bit his fingers and nipped at his skull, lungs heavy at the reminder of just how cold his body could get. Not the message he got on his new wrist comm, probably one of them reminding him of one of his many promises he has made and has no plans to keep as far as he is concerned.

First thing he does when he enters the Iron Lotus is storm over to the bar and order some brandy, just a shot. If he got hammered then the whole ship would be pissed at him, no. Just a taste, just enough to blame the smell on everyone else around him, say he hadn’t had a drop. The taste was better then honey and the burn on the way down had him shivering and moaning. That sound must have attracted attention, or it was his ugly mug that was plastered on a few wanted posters that hadn’t been taken down, as per the pardon he was given for helping the Guardians of the Galaxy save hundreds of planets and trillions of lives, but next thing Yondu knew, there was a new drink beside his hand and a warm body pressed against his side.

“What’s a hot piece like you doin’ alone on such a disreputable place as this one? Waitin’ for your bot to get set up?”

The voice was deep but teasing, tone dripping with promise of something dark and rough and it had the micro scales along Yondu’s skin pull taught, a shiver sliding down his spine like the sweat that collected on the back of his neck, scarf a tad too tight. The bar was packed and the heat radiating from the sheer amount of bodies making his leather clad frame veering towards swampy.

“Maybe. Wassit to you?” He sneers over his shoulder, red eyes taking in a thick chest, having to look up a good foot to find a face that knew its share of scars. Half his right brow looked like it had been ripped to shreds then sewn back the wrong way, that eye a brilliant blue where as the other was a charcoal black. From his skin tone, he could be Xandarian, but the bumpy ridges that trailed down his neck in two lines like a runway strip down to the V of his hips below along with the strength that seemed to ripple just below the surface screamed ‘Arcturan’. Now, Yondu wasn’t one to be against flirting with races outside of those blue skinned and indefinitely Kree, but sucking face with the race of the man who raised him had him more then hesitant.

His half assed attempt to blow the guy off didn’t seem to deter the guy, big shoulders lifting in a shrug and, instead of beating it like the ex Captain had expected, the guy pulled a stool closer and sat his ass down, looking Yondu over appreciatively.

“So, I ain’t gonna pretend I don’t know who ya are, an you ain’t gonna pretend to care about me. I’m just lookin’ for some company tonight and I’ve always wanted to see what faces the famed Ravager Captain Yondu Udonta makes when bein’ plowed into.” The smirk directed at him shouldn’t have made his knees so weak, lower jaw jutting out in feigned anger and he had to grip the sticky counter to keep himself steady as he lifted up on a stool of his own.

“So ya think I’d be takin’ it up the ass like some wuss?” He snarled, trying to find the angle this guy was trying to get at, but he froze in confusion as the man simply laughed, something soft and hearty, and shook his head.

“Nothing weak about liking your pleasure in different ways, and I can’t say I’m apposed to letting you be the one to fuck me. But I’ve heard the near death experience ya been through, everyone nearly has, I’d hate to say. I jus figured ya needed some tender lovin’ after such a stressful experience.

That had Yondu rolling his eyes, grunting as he shoved the offered drink away, disappointment and frustration palpable in a way that had the guy arching a brow in curiosity.

“Tha last damn thing I need is anything tender or loving, none of that bullshit. That’s all I’ve been surrounded by since I got spaced. What makes you think I can’t just go back to my ship and get that fluffy junk elsewhere, huh?”

The Arcturan sucked on a tooth silently a moment, staring in an unsettling way that had the ex Captain’s pants grow a bit tight in the zipper area.

“You saying you got a partner, then?”

Yondu snorted, hand lifting to rub over his fin, fingers near smacking into it as he miscalculated the height of the damned thing, still unused to the new prosthetic.

“Unfortunately, yeah. I do.” He grumbled.

“He okay with you having other partners in bed?”

This gained a furrow of hairless brows and the drop of his head, ducking between his shoulders as he snatched the deserted drink up to down it in a few gulps, figuring the silence would speak for itself.

A few more moments went by before the guy whistled low, shifting on his seat a tad before he tapped the sticky counter and two more drinks were set down. Sliding one of the glasses over to clink against the two empty ones, he looked Yondu over from the corner of his good eye, if he could even see from the blue one.

“You don’t seem too happy about this decision..he ain’t pushin’ that on ya, is he?” He waited for another reply but the ex captain remained silent, stewing in his emotions and turmoil from the past few weeks. The forced talks Kraglin wanted out of him after he’d already been opening up and talking near as long as his lungs would allow the rest of that day, the tenderness that made him feel raw and overexposed, and the plea for him to do something that just..wasn’t a part of him. He pursed his lips and took that drink to nurse on it, mood souring real quick.

“Look, ain’t gonna be your psychiatrist or none of that shit, won’t lie and say I care about what you and your hubby get up to, but..if you ain’t into having just one partner, you shouldn’t let someone force that on ya, you know?”

He sat there in silence after that, letting Yondu have the time to mull what he said over, watching him take a few more sips of his drink before he finished his own and stood up with a hum.

“Well, I ain’t gonna keep ya from your bot. Good talkin’ to ya, Captain.”

That had the Centaurian stiffen up, that name, that title. He downed his glass then slammed it onto the counter, surprised it didn’t shatter from the sheer force. It took a tad more effort then he was willing to admit to slide off of his own stool and onto steady feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets to hide the tremble. 

“Ain’t a Captain. Not yours, or no one else’s.” He took a breath, stale and thick with liquor before he turned around with a dirty smirk onto his face, grin sharp and gold capped. “But I can tell ya a few names ya can call me upstairs. C’mon, you’re paying.” 

He shifted on creaky knees, grunting as he popped his spine and avoided looking at this guy’s face as his own heated up. Now that the option was truly available, the branch extended towards this stranger, Yondu wasn’t too sure if he was worth following through with it. He had to keep the surprise from his face when the man looped an arm around his back side and gave his right ass cheek a nice soft smack that had the ex captain near eating shit as he stumbled. 

The trek  
up to the counter to order the room was a short one, but Yondu was nervous, shifting about to try and keep his stiffy from busting the zipper of his pants as well as trying not to look too much like he was overexcited for what was to go down. Flark, he felt like a damned virgin again, cracking a grin when he gave the guy a grope on his own pert ass, pleased to find some muscle there and the very idea of how this guy could throw him about and use him like a fuck toy had him lightheaded.

He was so eager, nearly tripping over his own feet as he was swept up steps and into a back private room, he doesn’t see the shadow of the tall Xandarian who had been watching from a corner of the room the whole time, nor does he see him storm his way out of the Iron Lotus and make his way silently back to the Milano.

 

 

The next morning tasted of vomit and morning breath, finding himself stripped bare and drooling into his oxygen mask, a portable version Rat strapped up for him in case he got a case of the wheezes. One look around the room came up with him alone and with a pounding migraine. Yondu hadn’t gotten hung over in a mighty long time, but he supposed there was a reason they always told you not to drink while taking meds. Well, the Centaurian’s blood swam with a cocktail of liquor and drugs of the not fun kind, and just one shift had him knowing he didn’t want to leave without a quick shower, smell of puke getting worse as the covers fell from his frame. No wonder the guy ditched, Yondu must have been a flarking wreck, and worst of all, he couldn’t remember anything after they got up and kissed a little.

Scrubbing his bald scalp beside his implant, he tried to stretch a crick from his neck before going through the necessary processes to get cleaned up and redressed, pleased to find his leathers and borrowed jacket were fine. He struggled into them only a little and by the time he was standing at the door, ready to leave, he was out of breath and ready for a long day’s worth of sleep, if Quill would allow him any reprieve.

Swaggering up to his own joint like he owned the place, finding a hot side of flesh to bed down with for the night after some much needed liquor, it was just like the good old days and had felt damned good to do. 

Leaving the Iron Lotus was a different story, however, because the moment his foot stepped out into snow he breathed in frost bitten air and had to scramble for his mask as he choked on his breath.The cold seeped in like an unwelcome hug, wrapping him tight and suffocating his body, still weak from his near death experience. Not wanting to mill about and see just how long it would take to die a second time, Yondu waddled his way through calf-deep snow towards the Milano, sneering at the relief on his boy’s face as he walked up the gangplank, huffing and wheezing the entire way.

“Not a damned word.” He choked, but Quill did what he does best and ignored his demands in favor of trailing after him. The way his eyes flickered about nervously had a-whole-nother wave of nausea hit him and he grabbed a fist full of t-shirt with a snarl.

“The flark got yer panties in a twist, boy? I ain’t been gone that long.”

“W-well, when you left, Kraglin-“

“He making a huff bout me, a grown adult, doin’ my own thing, that it?” He snarled out and Peter shook his head, eyes flickering behind his daddy at the team, stumbling after the ex captain as he made his way down the halls to the room he’d been forced to share for the past few weeks.

“N-no, that isn’t, look if you would-“

“Better not, that gangly worm can go chew on asphalt if he has something to say ‘bout me bein’ my own man.”

“I know, but, look. If you could just-“

“As a matter of fact, I ain’t stayin’ in a cabin with him no more, shack me up with Rat, at least he’d put out if I asked fer it.”

“No! Don’t do this right now, look, Yondu-“

Frustrated and head pounded, he wheeled around, sneer on his ugly mug as he slammed his hand onto the bio lock to his room.

“WHAT, BOY!?” He growled as best he could, whipping around to give him a glare but his face shifted into puzzlement at the crestfallen look his son was wearing.

Now, he would apologize if he truly hurt the kid’s feelings, knew all too well how pouty and teary eyed he could get at a drop of a hat, even at his age. But the direction he was looking, behind him, THROUGH him, it had his shoulders hunching wearily as he slowly turned himself to see what all this hubub was about.

And came face to face with his ex First sitting on the edge of a bed in all his furry glory, A Chiltarian through and through, room cleaned up on the side he deemed his own in a way that made it look just as empty as the old Centaurian felt his chest begin to adopt as well.

“Krags. What’s all this ‘bout?” He put up a front of anger, not knowing what else to do then fall back into his old ways with the man.

The male gave a shake of his head, kaleidoscope eyes looking him over with a silent hurt that Yondu could feel deep in his bones, so much emotion directed at him. It made him want to shrivel up and hide in his shell of a jacket.

“Don’t act like you’ll listen if I were ta tell ya.” He murmured, voice that thick type that hinted to the row of sharp teeth he carried in this form, anger suddenly flooding him as he heard the shufflings of the rest of Quill’s crew peeking through the doorway to investigate. At the fact something only his eyes were meant to see was bore to every other creature and life form on this pile of junk ship. He narrowed his ruby eyes and puffed his chest out, lower jaw working as he took a threatening step forward, implant burning red hot.

“You tell me what tha flark yer doin’ this moment. As yer captain-“

“Ya ain’t my Captain, remember?” Kraglin ground back, spitting the term like it was the lowest of insults, Yondu freezing at the vehemence in his voice. Then, he recovered, grinding his teeth in a snarl that had spittle flying as he clenched his fists tight enough to cut skin on his ragged nails.

“No, i ain’t. But we’re somethin’ an I got tha right to know what you’re getting up to.”

Kraglin gave a laugh this time, heart wrenchingly weak as he stood slow and slung a bag over his shoulder. All the others probably thought the male was staring him down at that moment, but no. Yondu could tell his ex first was looking everywhere but him.

“We ain’t nothin’ no more. Ya broke yer promise. I saw you and that guy go up to that room. I. SAW. YOU.” He shook his head, took a deep breath and it finally occurred to the ex captain that, maybe, Kraglin had chosen this form on purpose. He never was able to cry when he had them bug eyes, no tear ducts after all. He wanted to make the male wait, wanted to explain himself, try and negotiate terms. But he felt those eyes on him, judging him. Full of disappointment and what else was Yondu do but keep up his tough guy act, put on a show for those around him waiting for it? Because he was still a captain, he still had a ship. And he had an image to uphold.

Kraglin seemed to sense his decision as well, watched the set in the Centaurian’s jaw and the tension bunching up his shoulders and he stood up straighter himself, and shook his head.

“I ain’t fighting you on this. It’s over. We ain’t nothing, never were. So get outta my way.”

Yondu snarled now, taking a threatening step forward but the A Chiltarian began to shift forward. He pursed his lips, fin lighting up like the hot fusion core of the very ship that hummed under his feet, but Kraglin knew a bluff when he saw it. Knew how the old man’s weapon worked better then anyone else, after all, this prototype had been for the lanky fuck.

Another step was taken. Yondu panicked. 

A whistle high and sharp.

And then shocked gasps as the arrow flew right through Kraglin’s shoulder, embedding itself in the metal behind him, a nice chit sized hole sizzling where it ran through, cauterized immediately.

Kraglin stared at Yondu as the man stared right back, speechless.

He had just..shot him, the man he'd been with since he'd been a part of Stakar's crew, someone close to him. Someone that meant so much more then he could explain, but.. How? He flew with his heart, that shouldn’t have worked. Thanos knows he’d tried to skewer the fuck over and over back when they first started this odd game of theirs. But that was back then and this was something fragile and broken, and all the man could do was stare ahead in silence as Kraglin readjusted his footing and walked right past him.

Out of the room, off the Milano.

Out of his life.


	2. I Used To Be So Happy But Without You Here, I Feel So Low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's up with cap'n and feelings are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW for this chapter, just emotional hurt.  
> This one was short, took some time to figure out how to get from point A to B but I've figured a plan out :)

Yondu was being irritable.

Well, far more irritable then he normally was. Usually he grouched about, pretended he wasn't enjoying this nice, relaxed life he gained since his swim in deep space, but this was just..odd...

The day started up normal enough, Peter Quill figured, or as normal as one could get a few months after your kind of brother-in-law terrorizer of your childhood walked right on out of the ship (and proverbial family), but hey. That was between he and Yondu.

And, sure, Quill may be a bit pissed at that bug eyed fucker (no, not Mantis, she isn't a bad person. No, NO. Don't tell her I said- Drax, it was a figure of expression, I was talking about Kraglin, I swear-!), but who wouldn't be? He had walked right on out, after who knows how many years of being with his pseudo daddy (we don't think about details) 

Bottom line? 

Yondu wasn't okay.

Sure, he huffed and puffed, blew off steam, cursed at the top of his injured and scarred lungs, but then he just went...quiet... Still, lost.

He would walk around the ship aimlessly, begin a conversation only to realize his loyal First wasn't there at his side to listen. He'd get up and grouch as he entered the kitchen that Kraglin didn't wake him up, that he slept past his alarm, only to swallow his words and get this odd look on his face before going silent and storming off once more.

Needless to say, Quill didn't know what to do to help, and neither could the other guardians. They all just agreed to give it time, he'd get used to not having that asshole around, right..?

Yet, four months later, and he's far worse then before.

It started with Groot being, well, Groot. He was crawling up Yondu's leg, headed towards his most favorite spot of the old man's shoulder, and Yondu seemed to...startle? He jolted, maybe something tickled him, or he hadn't been expecting it. But he flicked his arm harshly, sending the little tree across the room. 

Thankfully, he landed onto the sofa, but that didn't keep the little plant from bursting into tears and scrambling into Rocket's shocked arms.

They brushed it off, assumed he just hadn't fully woken up and somehow mistook Groot for an Orloni racing about his limbs, (even though he'd been the plant's favorite since he joined their rag tag team, and Yondu's biggest strength is muscle memory)

But the day went on, and so did the next.

The next incident, Yondu was in their training room, seemingly letting out some steam and trying to rebuild his stamina, decompressed lungs and frost bitten limbs need to be worked over, after all.

But then, he froze, stone still. He tilted his head, as if hearing something that wasn't there. Then he sent a blade not inches from Gamora's head. 

Yeah. Weird. That's what Peter said when the daughter of Thanos informed him on it all. He wouldn't have believed such a strange thing, either, if he hadn't of gone back over the camera feed and, not only saw the exact instance his friend informed him of.

But it showed a lot more.

This wasn't just a one or two time occurrence. There were daily instances where the old Centaurian seemed to act without meaning to, talking to a phantom body or suddenly jerking about before freezing and shaking himself out of it.

This was more then they thought.

Now they just have to confront said ex Ravager captain and keep him from bull shitting them.

 

 

The day had been long and tiring for Yondu, feeling like eyes were on him at all times, nonexistent hair standing on end, he even sometimes swore he had the itch of peach fuzz on his scalp. He checked for parasites or some foreign substance that could irritate his skin, even had Bug take a look at it.

But no rash was found, no blood sucking Thiter fleas, nothing.

Just..bald, scarred, slightly wrinkled blue skin.

Exhausted, he fell right into the bed, groaning long enough to empty his lungs enough to send him into a coughing fit, rolling onto his side to try and gain his breathing and halt the sputtering, sweat breaking out over his forehead from the exertion of it all.

He didn't know a damn thing of what was happening, but one thing was sure.

He felt old.

He wasn't afraid of dying, no. That was sissy shit he never allowed to worm into self into his skull. He was a Ravager, knew anything could happen, any day could be your last. Just meant you should live your life to the fullest.

Dying of old age, though? Not only was that pathetic as all hell, giving another thing for Stakar to lord over him, the immortal flark.

But getting old hurt.

Joints ached he never even knew he had, every day adds another wrinkle to his thick hide. His memory was getting worse by the week and, worst of all even, he couldn't get it up but once a week if he really tried hard enough.

He was old, used, washed up.

Nothing worthy of Kraglin coming back to...

He grit his teeth when that man popped into his head, feigning anger for only a moment before he sagged into the bed that felt far too large for just him to be in.

Who was he kidding, Obfonteri never just 'popped' into his head.

He was always on his mind...

Chest aching, he wiped some dust from his eyes, mumbling weakly that he needed to get Quill to dust for him.

And then an aching behind his lids turned into a choked sob.

Who was he kidding. He fucked up, royally. And now he was gonna die old and alone, with the only person who stuck with him through it all hating him.

How pathetic.

He jolted when a knock came to his door, wiping at his face futily as a tentative voice came through the door.

"Hey, uh..dad..? You okay in there...?"

"'Course I am, boy! Whatch'u want?" He shouted back, hoping Quill didn't choose to comment on how hoarse his tone was or, when he hit the biolock and opened the door, how red and puffy his eyes were.

He didn't say anything, but he sure was thinking it, from the way the boy's face fell.

Over thirty years old and as pathetically empathetic as ever.

"Hey..you..."

"Whatdoya want, Pete....?" He sighed, sitting up with more effort then it should take, scrubbing his face tiredly.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, gaze flickering about the dark room. Great, after years of the kid never shutting up, NOW was the time he decided to? He opened his mouth to say as such, but shut it back with a click as he was asked a question.

"Why'd Kraglin leave....?"

Yondu blinked and swallowed dryly.

"Whaddya mean?" He gruffed and Quill gave him that LOOK. Sighing long and heavy, Yondu gave up and laid back down.

He waited just long enough for Peter to get antsy, chewing on his thoughts, and just as the kid made to either ask again or leave, he began to talk in a soft voice.

"...He didn't want me ta fool round with no one else. No nookie but fer him. I ain't...I ain't a one person guy, not with sex, I mean. But he didn't take ah likin' to it. So's, he left." 

Peter studied the old Centaurian a moment, almost certain that wasn't everything. He watched Yondu tense up, that vein on his forehead beginning to pop.

"...so that's it? He just..walked out after y'all calmly had a discussion?"

"Course not, boy. We pirates, if he tells me not ta do somethin' I do tha opposite."

"Because..you're an inconsiderate asshole." 

"Because I ain't gonna be controlled by no one!" He snarled back, sitting up to narrow his eyes at the Guardian, pointing a meaty blue sausage of a finger to his chest.

"I ain't gonna avoid doin' what makes me happy. I'm too old fer that shit."

"So you cheat on the guy..!?"

"So I show 'em who's boss."

"But you're NOT a boss anymore, Yondu-!" Pinching the bridge of his nose, Peter shook his head before he looked to the kid once more.

"Look...relationships, they're about equality. You can't lord being a captain of a ship you no longer have over him. If he has an issue, you guys talk it out. You don't hit, you don't threaten. You talk feelings."

Yondu sneered, rolling over so his back was to Peter. 

The man watched his father figure silently a moment, taking deep breaths and trying not to bludgeon the stubborn shit. But he watched a tremor in his shoulder and heard a soft hitch of a breath and his own shoulders sagged.

"...look...dad.... You gotta fix this..you need him..."

"I don't need shit but mah arrow an mahself."

Rubbing under his chin with his palm, Peter stood up and walked back towards the door, pausing in the threshold a moment before calling softly.

"But you do...you saved me, right...? I know how fucked up Kraglin looked when you were on your death bed...he cares about you... You just..gotta let him see that you care about him, too...."

Being met with silence, Peter let himself out and left Yondu alone to fall asleep with his own thoughts of regret and self loathing.

But he was being expected to do something Yondu Udonta never did, and that was apologize.


	3. I watched you as you left, but I can't ever seem to let you go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some weird shit's happening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some dirty in here so be warned
> 
> Sorry for the long hiatus life has been hard but I'm gonna finish this one and have another few in the works <3
> 
> Likes and comments appreciated

It had been about a week or two since that embarrassing talk with Peter, and everyone on the ship now walked around him on damned Fliktar shells. 

Like he was a loony, or something.

And is manic episodes were getting worse.

The other day he took a shower and could have sworn he felt something touch his back, a hand trace down his spine. It caused him to jerk around, eyes dancing about the shower block, breath stuck in his throat as he tried to catch his bearings. 

Whatever was going on, these phantom senses he was feeling were beginning to keep him up at night, keeping him from the rest he so needed. Yet here he was, ass crack in the morning, munching on the crushed up caff pills he was too impatient to let melt in his mug of hot water.

Peter waltzed right in, whistling one of his annoying tunes and froze the moment he spotted the grumpy pile of leathers and blue wrinkly ass sitting at the kitchen table.

He caught the boy looking about, as if it'd be so quiet if any of his ragtag crew were in here with him, before sidling up to grab himself some slop to eat and pop a squat far too close to the Centaurian.

"What ya want, son?" He heaved, landing tired eyes onto the man and he watched the Guardian physically flinch at the amount of bags under the ex captain's eyes.

"Uh, was..gonna ask if you had trouble sleeping, but by the looks of it..."

"Watch yer mouth. May not be yer cap'n no more, but I c'n still whoop ya as yer daddy."

Peter cringed, face going pink and shifted further away, ducking his head into his bowl of steaming mush.

"Okay, one. Never say daddy and whoopings in the same sentence, ew. Second, I got some of those good sleeping pills if you wanna try em out."

Yondu snickered but it had no real strength behind it, hunching forward as another migraine began to set in, rubbing his scalp in slow circles as he heaved a sigh.

"Maybe. Look, ya seen rat around? Was gonna have him check mah fin, been feelin' off lately."

Peter shrugged and turned those puppy eyes of concern back onto his father figure, causing the Centaurian to shrink further in on himself.

"Uh...no, sorry, dad. He went off on another one of his solo trips. Been taking them pretty often lately, too." He shrugged, face pinching like he had been wondering the same thing recently.

Cursing, Yondu heaved himself to his feet and near stumbled, shooting a glare at his boy when he stood as if to help him. Like he was some sorta invalid or something.

"Jus gimme them pills and tell me when rat gets back." He growled out, hand open and palm up demandingly.

Shaking his head, Peter slapped a few of them into his grip begrudgingly.

"Sleep well, dad."

"Yeah yeah..." He grumbled as he lifted a hand in goodbye before making his way back to his room.

His sufficatingly empty room.

It needed a thin frame of a person laid up across the mattress, pale skin or fuzzy blue fur stretched out for his hungry gaze.

Not just a mess of blankets and far more space then he needed.

Giving up on staring at the empty bed hoping for someone to suddenly appear within it, Yondu gave a weary sigh and shucked his leathers off, barely acknowledging that they didn't stand stiff like someone was still in em.

Pete's girl must be sneak doing his laundry again.

Laying on his back, punching his pillow a good few times to get the lumps in it to just the right shape so his neck didn't crane awkward like, he swallowed down the pills he'd been handed dry and forced himself to try and relax.

He took deep breaths, five counts on the inhale, seven on the out, eyes getting heavier and limbs feeling a bit tingly, but his mind still raced.

He cursed, knew he wouldn't get a damned lick of sleep if he didn't fully exhausted himself, so he glanced down over his gut that weren't as hard as it used to be, past his stained drawers to what twitched sluggishly between his thighs.

It'd been a while since he'd amused himself with some pleasure, and with Kraglin gone, he hadn't much seen the point in it.

But he had needs and if jerking it helped him to calm down back when he had a ship to call his own, before he had a furry boy warming his sheets, then maybe it'd help now.

Besides...he was oddly in the mood for it..

He tilted his chin up, willing his eyes to shut as he traced his fingers over the outline of himself, getting lost in the friction as his hips rolled and his breath stuttered, catching his lip between two chipped teeth.

He got impatient after another minute of some heavy petting, not one for much foreplay, and kicked his tighty whities off as best he could with that fog of sleeping pills running through his system.

Huffing softly as he tried to get his legs open enough, he licked his palm of diet and grease and wrapped the slicked hand around his cock, giving it a squeeze with a pleased little sigh. 

Flark, it'd been to long.

He started stroking himself fast and sharp, mouth falling open and legs twitching further apart, wishing he had the energy to grab one of his insertables, missing the sensation of feeling stuffed.

He startled when he felt phantom fingers trail up his waist, eyes flying open, and fists raising, ready to throw em at a moment's notice, but no one was there. 

He stared into the darkness of his room, breath heavy and sweat dripping off his brow bone, he slowly relaxed.

"Now ya feelin' shit, what? Ya gon' believe in ghosts now...?" He muttered to himself, gritting his teeth as he rubbed his eyes in exhaustion and frustration.

He didn't gasp so much as yelp when the next touch to his skin sent goose pimples about it, head snapping about to try and find the source. 

He stayed still where he was, tense, teeth bared and fin flashing a warning red.

He didn't expect to hear a voice along with the next soft stroke of fingers, this time trailing up his thighs.

'...ohh.....'

Yondu's heart pounded in his chest, muscles bunching and ears straining to try and hear more.

He..he could have sworn that was Kraglin's voice....

Weary, but curious as to what was going on, when he next felt a tingling pressure around his cock, stroking it nice and sweet and slow, just the hint of claws he would recognize anywhere, he relaxed instead of tensed further.

"Krags...tha...that you...?" He whispered shakily, trembling as that hand sped up just a bit, twisting just right when it got to the head. He knew he should be freaking out, but he was tired and this was the one man he missed most in the galaxy, he knew it was, could feel it in his heart.

He breathed out a soft sigh when he felt that hand speed up, his own his rolling involuntarily, mouth falling open further, legs spreading and hands fisting in sheets. He missed this..missed HIM.

"Krags..! Krags-! I'm gettin' close...." He choked out, thighs beginning to tremble, brow wrinkled and chest heaving, his abdomine getting tighter with each stroke.

Then there was a second set of hands, like ice water over his pectorals, pushing him down, pressure on his lap.

'Yeah, baby...ride me now.' Came Kraglin's feral snarl, the sound of soft giggles of a stranger direct into Yondu's ear and he shouted as he scrambled out of the bed, stumbling when his legs gave out, sheets tangling him up. 

He didn't stop screaming until Peter and Gamora stormed in, weapons raised, to find the old captain with a pale face, wrapped up in his blankets staring at an empty bed.

He barely registered when his son squatted next to him after finding nothing wrong, whispering if he was alright.

He just stared at nothing, mouth opening and closing, trying to piece together what it was he had just encountered.

One thing was for sure.

It had better not have been happening what it sounded like was happening.

Or Yondu Udonta was about to own a blue shag rug.


End file.
